Masquerade
by LadyEpic27
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki is a new student at the prestigious Yokohama Academy in Yokohama Tokyo Right away he quickly realizes how insane the rich and famous can be when camera's aren't involved And how even cliques can appear. Adopted from God's Sense of Humour
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, Lady Epic here!  
>I am adopting <strong>_**Instinct**_** from fellow author, ****God's Sense of Humor****! If you loved the first chapter as much as I did (the original) then go check out the rest of their work! Remember: the original plotline is theirs, and therefore all thanks and credit must go to them! So…go add them to your favorite author's category! **

**Also, I promise to try my best to exceed your expectations, and please review or PM me if you have a suggestion, and/or inquiry, and/or complaint. Despite my profile info, I love to talk to new people so don't hesitate to PM me—I don't bite :p.**

**2: I **_**in no way**_** consider myself 'Epic'. My name was changed awhile go, because my old one was very Emo, and I just didn't like it – plus I'm not Emo.**

**3: constructive criticism is VERY MUCH appreciated! I want to try my best to make this fanfic good! It is not my first, but the first I've published - thanks to ****God's Sense Of Humor**** !**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bleach**_** (unfortunately D: .) If I did, I would have made IchiRuki cannon by now . Also, the original plotline is ****God's Sense Of Humor****'s, as well as the first chapter.  
><strong> 

**kay….I'll stop my annoying blabbing and let you read! Enjoy!**

I ran a hand through my bright orange hair absently, not caring that it was probably sticking up everywhere. I was too busy staring up at this huge, imposing building in front of me. The entrance alone was grand and just screamed high-class. Wide, polished marble steps led up to frosted glass double doors. A series of pearly white columns held up an outcropping of the roof, providing a nice big area of shade in front of the door. A large gold plaque announced that the building was "YOKOHAMA ACADEMY FOR THE GIFTED."

_Welcome to school, Ichigo._

With a sigh, I dragged myself up the big stairs and in the front doors. They led to a spacious entry room, various tables and displays showing off all the rewards and medals the school had received. A big-ass portrait of who I assumed was the principle covered the opposite wall, staircases leading away from him on the left and right. And damn, he was ugly. Half bald and covered in warts and blemishes, I don't know why the fuck he would a humongous picture of himself to emphasize all of that. If people walk in and the first thing they see is this troll staring at them, they'd turn and walk right back out that door. Which I'd like to do, but unfortunately, I didn't have that liberty.

"You there! Aren't you supposed to be in class?" A grating, ear-piercing voice screeched from someone to my left. I spun to face the sound, finding myself nearly nose-to-nose with the freakin' scariest old lady I have ever seen in my life.

She had these fox eyes that would have made babies cry, constantly twitching around and searching for misfits. A sharp hawk-beak nose curved towards the floor, making it look like she was always staring down on you. So many lumps and moles riddled her face, I swore, she could be the principle's sister.

"No, ma'am. I'm new here. I'm supposed to be in homeroom 310." I took a step back, away from her putrid breath and wrinkled features. You didn't want to get backed into a corner by her. You could die by suffocation with breath like that.

She retreated slightly, keeping her small eyes trained on me. "I would say you're just a delinquent who's trying to get out of class."

Let's not jump to conclusions, shall we? "No, no, it's not like that! I really am new! I don't even―"

The old witch shook her finger threateningly, and I think a menacing smirk crossed her thin white lips. "No excuses. To the principal's office with you!"

I opened my mouth to defend myself when a pleasant, smooth male voice stopped mine.

"Don't be hasty, LeBouche-sama. Ichigo here is actually a new student. Nice to meet you, Kurosaki-kun." A hand reached out for a handshake. The hand belonged to a tall man with chocolate brown hair and simple rectangular glasses. A sincere smile turned up the edges of his mouth, and tiny crow's feet marked the corners of his eyes from years of laughter. "My name is Aizen Sosuke. I'm the vice principal here."

I took his extended hand and we shook once with a firm grasp. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, as you seem to know."

Aizen chuckled one time, releasing his grip. My arm dropped back to my side, and I shoved it in the pocket of my uniform slacks. "It's my business to know who goes in and out of this school. Besides, your father made quite a bit of noise when you moved in. A renowned doctor like your father arriving in a town like Yokohama is bound to be the subject of discussion and gossip."

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, casting my gaze downward. Being my dad's kid is almost as bad as being born to a celebrity or famous politician. Everyone just labels you the snobby rich kid who considers everyone else beneath his notice. Stereotypes like that really bug me, but there's nothing I can do about it. I try not to be prejudiced or biased. Hypocrites are pansies.

Aizen smiled warmly at me again, guessing my thoughts. "Don't stress over it, Ichigo. I'm sure you'll fit in just fine here. Now, why don't we―"

He was interrupted by shouts echoing up the stairwell. A boy with bright red hair pulled up in a ponytail and shorter guy with chin-length Egyptian style hair and feathers in his eyebrow pounded up the steps, huffing in breaths. Their pristine uniforms were splattered with what seemed to be ketchup and caviar. The redhead spoke up, gesturing back down the stairs. "Ikkaku started another food fight, Aizen-sensei. Hitsugaya and Ishida are trying to calm things down, but everyone just keeps chucking their lunches."

The boy with the weird eyebrow nodded seriously, murmuring, "It's not very beautiful at all."

The bespectacled principal sighed tiredly, suddenly sounding years older than he looked. "Yumichica, come back down to the cafeteria with me. Renji, this is Ichigo Kurosaki. He's a new student. Ichigo, Renji Abarai. He's on the student council board. Renji, please show Ichigo to his homeroom. I believe he's in the same one as you." The vice rushed off with the black-haired boy, looking harassed already. The LeBouche woman, whom I had completely forgotten about, hobbled away, muttering under her breath about delinquents and detentions.

The spiky-headed kid turned back to me, a small smirk on his face. "Strawberry, huh? It suits you, _Ichigo_."

I rolled my eyes at him. Stupid name. Why couldn't it mean 'warrior' or 'fierce' or something? Anything's better than a fruit. "Shut the hell up. Anyway, you're not much better, pineapple."

"Hey, you're the new kid here, not me! _I'm_ the one who gets to call _you_ names," Renji growled, getting in my face. I slowly took a step back, shaking my head condescendingly at him.

"Temper, temper. You get in trouble with an attitude like that, spiky head."

"Smartass. Anyway, c'mon carrot top. I'm starving."

With that, Renji pulled me unceremoniously towards the staircase by my shirt collar, ignoring the curse words thrown at him.

"Hey, aren't we supposed to be going to homeroom?" I protested, trying not to trip over my own feet, which is a little hard when you're being dragged headfirst down a stairwell.

"Yeah, we're _supposed_ to be. But I'm hungry, and it's funny watching Mr. Aizen yell at Ikkaku," Renji said, smiling mischievously at the prospect.

As we descended ― in my case, fell ― down the stairs, the sounds of yelling and splattering food echoed through the halls, bouncing off walls and reaching our ears. They seemed to be coming from a pair of industrial doors halfway down the deserted corridor. My suspicions were confirmed as what looked like lemon meringue pie was rocketed through the doorway and slammed into a locker on the other side of the hallway. Renji chuckled at my startled expression.

"Brace yourself, newbie. It's going to get rough," Renji, said sarcastically, probably only half-joking as he carefully poked his head into the lunchroom. He pulled back instantly, an apple shooting through the air in the very spot his head had been a second ago. It smashed into the opposite wall and split into pieces.

"Who the hell is throwing these things? Going to kill someone at this rate," I commented warily, eyeing the crushed apple and the remains of the pie, which were dripping slowly, down the sickly green lockers.

Renji laughed lightly. "Well, that's kind of the point."

He dove headfirst, army style into the cafeteria before I could respond.

So, people try to kill other people with fruit here? Great school. Nice pick, Dad.

Heaving a sigh, I crouched down and ducked into the room carefully. Never know what might come flying next. Lunches, cans, small children...

Inside was total and complete chaos. Food and drinks were being projected from everywhere, the floor, walls, even ceiling coated with various lunches. In the middle of the mess was some bald kid who was hurling anything within reach at anyone within range. He was laughing maniacally as he threw sandwiches and soda cans. I spotted Renji standing away from the center of the mayhem, chortling at the principal's failed attempts to quite the pandemonium. Some student council member.

Suddenly, something small and pink flew across the room, colliding with the head of the kid who was causing the havoc. It latched onto his shiny, hairless skull, giggling delightedly. The bald kid clawed frantically at it, tripping over lunch boxes and other students, screaming and shouting. Raucous laughter erupted as the kid fell backwards onto the lap of an extremely surprised, now blushing boy with straight, jet black hair and square glasses. The projectile turned out to be a little girl with short pink hair. She skipped away happily, dodging around puddles and pools of food.

"SILENCE!"

The bellow cut off all traces of chuckling. Everyone instantly melted away from the bald kid, hiding himself or herself from the wrathful glare of Mr. Aizen. After talking to the guy, I'd drawn the conclusion that he was pretty levelheaded. He must have been pretty mad if he was yelling. But, after he was sure the cafeteria had quieted and an uncomfortable spotlight was on the bald kid, he spoke softly and calmly.

"Ikkaku, I am very disappointed in you. This is the third time this week you've started a food fight. After you clean up, I would like to see you in my office."

Mr. Aizen took one more glance at the rest of us and swept out the door.

For a moment, there was a complete and utter hush, then a cacophony of jeers and laughter broke out again.

"Nice going, Ikkaku!"

"Can't you just stay outta trouble?"

"You're gonna get kicked out at this rate."

"Shut the hell up!" Ikkaku shouted, a vein in his temple twitching. All the people previously taunting him slunk away and hid their faces behind the remains of their lunches.

The kid with the Egyptian hair put a hand on Ikkaku's shoulder, struggling to keep a smile off his face. "Hey, calm down. Anger is an ugly emotion."

The bald boy snorted and shrugged the hand off, striding over to a table towards the back that had a few other kids at it. Yumichica shook his head, trailing after him.

"Oi, strawberry, come on. Lunch is this way."

Renji appeared at my side; indicating the table Ikkaku and Yumichica had just gone to. I shrugged and followed him to the corner of the cafeteria. As we sat down, several of the kids greeted Renji, casting curious glances at me.

"Hey guys. This is Kurosaki Ichigo. He's new here." Renji named off everyone at the table, waving in their general directions.

"That's Hitsugaya Toshiro and Matsumoto Rangiku..."

He pointed to a short boy with wild white hair and serious eyes sitting next to a cheerful red-haired girl with a rather… endowed, chest. The solemn boy nodded at me, and the girl waved happily.

"Sado Yasutora and Ishida Uryu..."

Renji motioned to a really big, muscled guy with curly brown hair that fell in his eyes and the glasses kid from before.

"Kenpachi Zaraki and Kusajishi Yachiru..."

A man with black hair pointing everywhere sat in the corner, not even glancing at me. He looked to be at least a couple years older than the rest of us. The pink missile was perched on his shoulder. She grinned at me.

"And Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichica."

Baldy and the guy with the funny eyebrows cast fleeting looks in my direction, nodding and returning to their argument.

I waved to each of them in turn, watching as they resumed their lunches, as if the chaos that had just unfolded hadn't. I guess they were used to this kind of thing. Hadn't Aizen-sama said that this was the third food fight this week?

A sudden volley of obnoxious catcalls and wolf whistles interrupted my thoughts. They were aimed at a group of girls striding across the lunchroom, their uniforms clean despite the incident and their heads haughtily held high. I noticed that Renji and some other kid with brown hair were making most of the noise.

After the hooting died down, I turned to the red pineapple, jerking my chin in the direction of the girls. "Hey, who're they?" I couldn't resist making a jab at him. "Seems like you've got a thing for them."

Renji shot me a glare before going back to staring wistfully at the girls. "Lemme explain something to you, newbie. Those girls, we call them the Yokohama Elites. Yes, corny name, but it wasn't my idea. Anyway, all of us here are rich or have famous parents or something. But those girls…they're the top of the top. They're the ones with movie star daddies and cosmetic company mommies. They're dirty rich. And therefore totally unapproachable by commoners like us. Of course, they have some favorites who they let hang out with them. Kuchiki Byakuya, Starrk Coyote, and that bastard, Ichimaru Gin." He pronounced the last name vehemently, glaring at a kid with a big, creepy smile and white-blue hair.

"What'd he ever do to you?" I asked, letting some humor leaking into my voice, just to irritate him.

"Nothing," he growled. "He's just an asshole."

I chuckled at Renji's quick judgment. "So, you got any favorites?" I motioned again at the table of girls.

"Hell yeah," Renji muttered, surprising me.

"Oh? And which would that be?"

He grudgingly pointed out a shorter girl with black hair and shocking purple eyes. "Kuchiki Rukia."

I recognized the last name from one the other boy Renji had been talking about. "Any relation to Kuchiki Byakuya?"

"Yeah, he's her brother. He's a year older than us, so he's in senior year."

"So that's why she's unapproachable. She's got her big brother watching out for any creepers," I laughed.

Renji flushed, looking back to shoot me a dirty look. "I'm not a creeper, baka. Besides, Byakuya graduates this year, so next year I can have free rein."

"You know who I think is hot?" The boy who had been wooing the girls along with Renji leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows.

Renji groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Keigo, we all know who you like. Inoue Orihime, she's all you even talk about. You don't stand a chance, man. That she-demon, Arisawa Tatsuki and Rukia are always there to kick the Asses of any guys who get to close to her."

"Still, she's got the nicest rack I've ever seen…" Keigo trailed off, staring dreamily at a redheaded girl with a kind smile. I felt a blush tint my cheeks, trying ignoring my new friend's snickering.

I took another look around the Yokohama Elite's table. They didn't seem like the stuck-up kind. But if I were to go off of what Kiego and Renji had been saying, it seems like some of them were.

A sudden movement caught my eye. The girl with violet irises, Rukia, had gotten up to through her garbage out. Something about the way she walked, the way she held herself reminded me of nobility or royalty. Her back stayed straight, competing with the lazy curves of the rest of the student body. She purposely rejected any eye contact, keeping those indigo orbs locked straight ahead. She must have felt my gaze, because as she sat back down, she twisted in her seat, searching the cafeteria for the eyes watching her. I quickly glanced away, but not fast enough. I felt her eyes on the back of my neck. I rubbed the spot self-consciously, trying to smooth down the hairs that were standing up.

An annoying, clanging bell rang throughout the school, making everyone jerk their heads up. Renji grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the door, following the stream of kids exiting the room.

"Lunch is over. We have Physics now with Ms. Ise. Her subject is boring, and she's strict as hell. Prepare yourself," Renji called, taking the stairs two at a time and leaving me to trail behind.

As I followed Renji, I felt a shoulder bump into mine.

"Sorry," I muttered instinctively. At the same time, the owner of the shoulder snapped, "Watch it!"

Well, what the hell. No need to be pissy. "Hey, _you_ bumped into _me_, idiot!" Too late, I realized the person that had knocked into me was Kuchiki Rukia.

She stopped, in the middle of staircase, and glared at me. "_What_ did you just call me, fool?"

Oh, I'm the fool? I scowled at her, returning the evil eye. "You're obviously deaf. I said you bumped into me, _idiot_."

Kuchiki's hands balled into fists as she seethed, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't think you understand the immense gap between our social levels, baka. You do not screw with my friends or me. How about you apologize nicely, and we'll leave you be. Consider this a warning."

I hadn't noticed the growing group of onlookers clustered around us, twittering excitedly among them. They created a semi-circle around us, egging the argument on.

I felt my temper flare. So we have an audience. The more the merrier. They can watch me prove these 'Yokohama Elites' aren't as great as they think they are. Their high-and-mighty, holier-than-thou attitude is just air. All 'popular' kids are. They think their fame and status gives them the automatic right to do anything. I was about to shoot back an insult when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"What's going on here?"


	2. Original Ichi

Chapter Two: The Original Ichi. (I've decided that that's going to be the official chapter name XD, just because Ichi means one in Japanese and **God's Sense of Humour** wrote the first chapter and I started this one after adopting it. So…yeah. SEE YOU AT THE BOTTOM.)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, it belongs to Tite Kubo. All of it. **

"What's going on here?"

The crisp, emotionless voice cut through the air like a verbal knife. The students clustered around Kuchiki and I immediately silenced their jibes and grew pale. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, so I continued to glare down at Kuchiki. The short girl kept up her icy look unwaveringly— which made me think she was used to getting her way.

"Rukia, what is going on?"

I watched as the toneless voice gained the face of a calm, expressionless older boy with long jet-black hair and obsidian eyes. He was tall with perfect posture; and an air about him that screamed, "I'm better and more important than you— and we both know it". Guys like him really pissed me off.

"Byakuya nii-san," Kuchiki Rukia breathed out, breaking off our death stare to look up at the boy. Her whole demeanour changed when he rested a hand upon her shoulder. She let her hackles down and regained composure. "Everything's fine. This...urchin just stepped out of bounds. I'm handling it."

Byakuya...so this is Kuchiki's older brother. The thought struck a chord— if Kuchiki and her merry band of egotistical lunatics could cause that much commotion in the cafeteria alone, and having Byakuya silence everyone in utter fear meant he was more important and infamous than his sister. He had a lot of pull in this school. It made me wonder what else he and his family had influenced on.

Kuchiki Byakuya slowly looked me up and down. He seemed to smirk just barely perceptibly when his eyes rested on my hair. I resisted the urge to roll my own eyes. What a dick.

"This may seem a little cliché," the older Kuchiki began calmly. "But I don't think you know how this school runs. The kind of ...impression my friends and I leave on the students. A pathetic excuse for a human like you couldn't possibly comprehend the consequences of going against us. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Urchin."

"Kurosaki."

"What?"

"My name's not 'urchin'," I scowled at the older Kuchiki. "It's Kurosaki Ichigo. And I wasn't trying anything-your dunst (E/N: Dense? Ditz? Dumb? Not sure what word you wanted there), brat-of-a-sister bumped into me and spazzed for no reason. I was sticking up for myself."

Byakuya seemed to consider what I had just said carefully. He looked down at his sister. "Rukia— is this true?"

"It is, nii-san," Rukia looked at her feet, face flushed with humiliation.

"Apologize."

"What?" both Rukia and I blurted automatically.

Byakuya stared at his sister indifferently. "Apologize— now."

Rukia glared at me defiantly. "I— I'm...s— s— sor..."

"Go on," Byakuya pressed, the grip on her shoulder getting tighter.

"I'm sorry," Kuchiki Rukia sighed and looked down at her tiny feet again.

The surrounding crowd whispered excitedly. I watched silently as Rukia's face grew redder and redder. I could hear Madarame and Ayasegawa snickering behind me. Even though Rukia was a bitchy little princess, seeing her like this would make anyone pity her. And, unfortunately, I fell in that category.

"Ugh," I groan, looking away and scratching the back of my head. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

**[[**The dark-haired girl gave me a violent glare, opening her mouth to snap a sarcastic retort at me. The hand on her shoulder tightened minutely, a silent warning that locked her teeth together and made her glower instead. Byakuya fixed me with a level, apathetic gaze.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-san," the elder Kuchiki said, the honorific tacked on at the end with slight contempt. "We'll be taking our leave now. Come, Rukia."

The girl gave me one last dark look, lip curled in disgust, before stalking haughtily after her brother's retreating form. There was moment of silence, and then the narrow hallway erupted into cheers. Hands reached from the pack of onlookers — whom I had totally forgotten about — and patted me on the back. Someone gave my arm a friendly punch.

"Well done, man! That was freakin' great! Did you see her face? Priceless!" Renji was practically yelling in my ear, far too close for comfort.

I edged away as politely as possible, giving him a weak smile."Yeah..." I trailed off, a little bit of guilt tugging at my mind. Before I could squash it, a piercing bell rang, scattering the crowd like a school of fish that had spotted a shark.

"Oh shit! We're late! Ise-Sensei is gonna kill us!"**]]** – (Whole part written by God's Sense of Humour.)

I followed Renji through the thick mass of students heading towards their respective classes. I was thankful for the other boy's flaming bright hair amongst the crowd, so I could spot it easily like a beacon in the darkness. This school had too many hallways that twisted and turned into something that I didn't even _want_ to imagine getting lost in. Sighing, I ran a hand through my spikes once more and pushed against the tight flow of students.

"Ah!" something screamed as it hit my shoulder.

"Huh?" I looked down in surprise as a tall, very busty orange-haired beauty lay awkwardly at the ground by my feet. I was about to ask her what she was doing down there, but then quickly connected the dots of my own ignorance. "Oh I'm sorry," I lean down and hold out a hand. "I didn't see you there."

The girl looked up in confusion and froze. Her mouth grew into a large, semi-cute circle and her eyes widened. "N-n-n-_no_, **I'm** sorry! I should have watched where I was going! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me, Mr. Delinquent!"

My eye twitched at the unusual (yet not uncommon) nickname. I grabbed the girl's small wrist and pulled her up effortlessly. "I'm not going to hurt you," I said in mild irritation. "I was _trying_ to help you up. It was my fault you fell."

"So…you're _not_ a delinquent?" the girl looks up at me in wonder. "But you dye your hair that strange bright color!"

"It's _natural_," I bark through my teeth. "Anyway, I lost sight of my friend. Be careful on your way to class," I brush past the girl and quickly chase after a dot of red hair all the way down the corridor getting smaller by the second.

"INOUE!" a scream calls after me.

I stiffen, and turn around. "What?" I stare at the same girl from before.

"My name is Inoue Orihime!" the bimbo, no – Inoue – calls out to me. "What's yours, Mr. Delinquent?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," I say with a straight face.

"Nice to meet you!" Inoue smiles brightly, turned on her heel with a quick flourish of her short skirt and long, silky hair, and walks off.

"Yeah…" I mutter under my breath. I look around and realize that Renji has, in fact, completely disappeared. I curse and run as fast as my long legs can down the hallway.

"I'M HERE!" I scream, through open the door to my homeroom with great effort. My body ached and my head hurt – I was right; these hallways _are_ scary to get lost in.

The entirety of my homeroom stared at me with alarmed faces. My teacher, Ise-sensei, was a tall woman with black hair pinned back, an angled face, and a sharp gaze hidden behind glasses. She froze in front of the chalkboard, a piece of plain white chalk held in her hand poised to write before she was so rudely interrupted. I gave a slightly apologetic look and walked straight into the class and held up my transfer papers.

"I'm the new student, Kurosaki Ichigo," I said quickly, trying to catch my breath.

Ise-sensei studied my papers with an intense attitude. She signed her slot and quickly shoved them back into my hands. With a dismissive shrug and chucked a thumb over her shoulder. "Alright. Pick an empty seat. By the end of today I will create your new seating chart."

I let out a quick sigh of relief and walked over to the back corner desk. I dropped my book-bag onto the side pegs and slid into my seat. My body visibly relaxed and I shook off my aches and focused on the board ahead. Ise-sensei looked over her shoulder and grinned rather evilly at me. I froze and my gaze was transfixed with hers only because of semi-fright.

"Kurosaki, you have detention after school," Ise-sensei says with a haughty laugh.

My mouth drops and I quickly glare at the older woman vehemently. "But _why_?" I whine.

"Because you were late, that's why," another quick, careless shrug and she was back to teaching as if nothing had happened.

I lean my elbow on my desk, cup my face, and glare out the window.

Physics was long and boring. Since it was the beginning of a new school year, the class was only going to be lectures and review for this week. I already new the basics inside and out – I was a good student whether my physical appearance and peers begged to differ.

Ise-sensei quickly erased the board, earning groans from those who hadn't studied over the break and hadn't had time to write down the notes (Renji included in those few). Sensei quickly makes three long rows of double-desks, for eight pairs. She begins writing a number on each of the faces and places a bowl on her desk. She turns to face us with a superior smirk on her face.

"Alrighty, everyone, since this is going to be your class for the rest of the year," **(a/n from what I've learned, in Japan everyone in the year has the same class but different teachers for different studies. But they're divided into different classes because of the amount of kids. So in north America –and probably other countries – in high school we switch classes every ninty minutes (or however long), while in Japan they only switch teachers.)** Sensei says brightly. "I get to pick where you'll be sitting every few months. But, to make it fair, you have to pick numbers out of a bowl and that's whom you'll be seated with and is partners with in every class project. Sound fun? Good. Hurry before the next bell rings!"

The first horizontal row stood up and grabbed their numbers. They moved around to stand beside their new desks with sullen faces. Then came the next row, and the next, and the next until finally it was my turn to stand up. I picked the number thirty-four and looked at the chart for where I was sitting. Straight in the middle of class, middle row. I walked over to my desk and dumped in my books and sat down sluggishly.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" a female voice hissed beside me. "I'm not sitting beside _you!_"

I turned to the right to face the freaked out girl and immediately began a glaring war with her. "Kuchiki. Great."

"Sensei!" Kuchiki shrieks over her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with me. "I wish to change with someone!"

"I'll do it!" another female voice calls out. I twist around in my seat to look directly behind me. A pretty girl with short, tomboyish cut hair and light brown eyes was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Renji sitting beside her.

"Great! Now I don't have to deal with this…_thing!" _Kuchiki waved a hand at me dismissively and turned to Renji brightly. "You, Abarai … right? Could you please sit beside Ichigo in my place?"

"I would be glad to be rid of this She Devil," Renji moodily glares at the girl beside him, and then lazily pointed to the board. "But I _can't._"

Kuchiki, the other girl, and myself follow the direction Renji was pointing with his finger. Written in the board with multi-colored chalk and bold kanji, was a rule that _absolutely no one_ was to switch partners. Under no circumstances was this to be allowed. I mentally cursed while the tomboy behind me blatantly dropped the f-bomb. I had to admire her spunk.

Kuchiki quickly sat down beside me and made it apparent to ignore my existence. I was completely fine with that, and would even be obligated to agree with doing so – if not for Renji.

"Well this fucking sucks, eh, Ichigo?" Renji sits in his seat backward waiting for the next teacher without much of a care. "I can't believe I get stuck with this … really, what _are_ you?" he looks at the tomboy with great annoyance.

"Arisawa Tatsuki. You _know_ me Renji. We go to the same dojo – if you want yet _another_ ass kicking to remind you of who I am – I'd be happy to oblige." The tomboy grins ruefully.

Renji rolls his eyes. "Anyway," he turns back to me. "Since you're new you wont know this – but every year this school holds a masquerade ball. The two top rated classes of every grade get to participate in the choreographed dance. Our class, 3-C, is one of the top two. Ergo: we all have to dance. And since we're stuck with these girls the rest of the year, they'll be our partners."

My mouth dropped and the world grew dark. It felt like I was either about to throw up, or pass out at any moment now. It wasn't like I had a problem with dancing (even though I sucked) and the whole idea of the masquerade was generally cool – it was the problem with partners. I, obviously, had to have a girl as my partner. This couldn't happen-I _had_ to be excused. I'm not gay, it's just ever since I was nine years old I've had a problem with getting close to and/or being around girls. When I watched my mother die it caused a deep emotional pain that led to me being, literally, allergic to girls and pretty much closing myself off if I were to get too attached to them.

"Ichigo? Ichigo!" Renji's ugly mug was nearly a millimeter away. Our noses barely brushed. I pushed him away with a rough shove and leaned away in disgust.

"_WHAT?_" I snap.

"You spaced out," Arisawa contributes, looking genuinely concerned. "You afraid of girls or something?"

_You have _no_ idea_, I think with a small shudder.

"Either that or you're gay," Renji grins.

"Neither," I snap with a quick flash of my middle finger to Renji. "I was thinking about how lame the whole 'masquerade' thing is. Who the hell would want to do _that?_"

Arisawa grins at Kuchiki, who was purposely studying her cellphone with an excessive and slightly suspicious amount of intrigue. The dark haired girl made no comment to my remark, set on the task at hand of ignoring me.

"Rukia would want to," Arisawa continues with a smile. "It's the main reason she came back to this school this year."

I look down at the shorter, prissy girl through the corners of my eyes. My usual scowl entered my face and I was glad to have my metaphorical mask back. "What do you mean?" the question was directed to Arisawa, but I kept my amber eyes on Kuchiki.

Before Arisawa can respond, Kuchiki snaps her phone shut and sighs. She looks up at me with an unrefined, blatant glare. Her eyes are like violet orbs of ice, and her translucent skin was like snow. She seemed just as cold as her outer appearance on the inside – though some part of me deep down doubted that. I knew what it was like to put up a front, and my guess was that so did Rukia.

"I would have left to study abroad Europe. I have the chance to take over one of my father's companies and I'm going to do so. But this year was the only year I got into the class able to enter the dance. So I put my plans on hold," Kuchiki lowered her glare and decided to just stare at me level-headedly. I had to praise her coolness, for it was almost eerily perfect.

"You did all that for a dance?" I raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It's important," Kuchiki set her jaw defiantly.

"More important than your future?"

"More important than anything."

I stared at her. Simply stared in wonder and awe. She wasn't the stuck up bitch she was after lunch. Right now it seemed like there was actually some depth to her. As if her soul wasn't missing and she still had some warmth left. It made her seem almost human. Maybe I was judging her too harshly when we were fighting. There was no doubt that she was doing wrong and claiming I had no innocence – but then again she was known as someone Elite in this school. Someone to look up to –figuratively speaking, seeing as she's practically a midget- and idolize. If she's portrayed as this cold-hearted wench, then she has to _act_ the part in front of an audience or else she'll lose all her power. No doubt it was a stupid rule, but I didn't come up with it.

"Take a picture – it'll last longer," Kuchiki snaps frostily.

I blink rapidly and scowl at her moodily. There went my spellbound attitude. There went all the good thoughts about her. Kuchiki would never stop being a bitch. And, frankly, I didn't really care.

"Please, I don't want to break my camera," I quip.

The three teenagers around me are shocked silent. Renji in awe; Tatsuki in utter surprise. And the Little Queen was angry. Her tiny little fists balled up, and she shook in a fit of rage. I didn't think it was my comment that made her so angry, it was probably the insolence that I committed. Sweet.

"You little-," Kuchiki's angered roar was cut off by the bell ringing and the classroom door opening simultaneously.

"HELLO CHILDREEEENNNN!" A tall man in a loose flower kimono danced in with a euphoric smile on his face.

Everyone froze.

**HOWDY FOLKS!  
>Alrighty, it's been <strong>_**forever**_** since I last updated. I'm so very, very sorry. The truth is the lack of inspiration because I'm freaking out because this story was adopted. The first chapter wasn't mine (please go check out God's Sense of Humour stories! She's obviously an amazing author!) I had to update this **_**now**_** (sorry Cassie) because tomorrow is going to be super hectic for me, cause I have to prepare for Halloween because I'm babysitting a two year old, and two sixth graders. Plus, November I'm starting NanoWriMo. A website that helps you write a book (finishing at 50, 000 words or more) in one month. November is my birthday month, so that's my goal as the only birthday present I want. If I **_**can**_** I will update another chapter, but until then please don't hate me! I love you all and thank you for your kind reviews and favorites! Please review so I **_**know**_** you like this chapter. Also, God's Sense of Humor has helped me immensely, and even gave me a paragraph to use in this chapter as stated above. She has been nothing but patient and unimaginably kind. I, sincerely, can't thank you enough!  
>-Lady E.<strong>


End file.
